Sherlock Oneshots
by RobinB01
Summary: Random oneshots about Sherlock and John. Mostly hurt/comfort, but also cute fluffy one shots I hope you enjoy. Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Sherlock.
1. Shot

"Hold still will ya?" John was carefully attempting to remove a bullet from Sherlock's left shoulder. He had Sherlock sitting on the counter with his back to the wall. John had his hand on his chest and lowered the tweezers into the wound. Sherlock glared at him as he gritted his teeth. The tweezers emerged with the bullet in between the arms.

"Is it out?" Sherlock asked as I doused the wound with hydro peroxide. He gave a yelp and John wrapped the wound.

"Yes it's out. Now you need to rest, so it doesn't get infected."

"But-"

"No buts, doctor's orders."

"Fine," he mumbled as he got off the counter and laid down on his bed. John put the kettle on and paced around. He had a look of worry on his face.

"John would you stop worrying at me? I will be fine now bring me some tea." Sherlock called as the kettle squealed. John poured him a cup and brought Sherlock it. Sherlock sighed and sipped at it. "Thanks."

"It's not a problem; now go to sleep before I drug you." John smirked as Sherlock's eyes slid shut.


	2. Learning the violin

**Sherlock's POV**

 _SCREECH!_ That's all I heard as John held my violin up to his chin. The bow was fraying in his hand. I sighed as he continued to "play" my precious violin.

"John you are playing it wrong."

"I am aware Sherlock. It's hard to know how to play when you're just learning the instrument."

"Well John with all that useless information in your head. I figure you knew how to play a violin without much difficulty."

"It looks like you were surprisingly wrong Sherlock," John spat.

"Whatever John then give me back my violin." Sherlock reached for the violin, but John moved it out of his reach. Sherlock ran forward and seized his property as John pulled it back. The violin snapped and Sherlock stepped back with his mouth agape.

"Sherlock….I'm sorry. I didn't me-" He was interrupted by Sherlock grabbing the two halves of his prized possession. Sherlock turned and walked out the door, his trench coat sweeping behind him. John sighed and went to the kitchen to put the kettle.

 **I hope you enjoyed my few one-shots so far. Please review. I will try to update when I can. Also if you have an idea for a story or you have a prompt you would like me to do. Please leave a review with your idea in it. I will try to do as many as I can. Thanks.**


	3. Clue

**Warning: Spoilers of the CLUE Movie.**

"IT'S ALL OF THEM. THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE!" Sherlock roared at the end of the clue movie.

"Well technically that was only one possible answer. Anyone could have done it they all had motives isn't that correct. Anyways they did show single characters doing everything by themselves." John stated calmly

"Still they all just decide to ban together when they notice how much of a bloody prat the butler was?" Sherlock retorted.

"Sherlock it's just a movie. It's not always going to make sense to you intricate mind."

"Well I'm going out."

"And doing what might I ask?"

"I'm going out"

"Ok whatever Sherlock."

 ***prat is what British people call idiots**


	4. Sick-Sherlock

**John's POV**

I woke up next to Sherlock. I glanced at him. He was sweating, as heat radiated off his body. His hair was stuck to his forehead and his night clothes were drenched. I got out of bed and retrieved a cool rag and some tea. I set the tea on the night stand as I set the rag on Sherlock's burning head. Sherlock finally stirred and sat up wearily.

"John wha-" Sherlock said as I pushed him back down onto the bed.

"You're burning up and I brought you tea but you need to change first. I'll leave but you aren't going to stay in those clothes." I got him out some new night clothes and handed it to him and exited the room. A few minutes later, I came back to find him sitting on the edge of the bed. I walked over to him and lifted his head up so he could look at me.

"Shh it's ok my dear Sherlock. Now you must lay down and get some rest, so your state doesn't worsen do you understand," I said gently to him.

"Yes John," he mumbled and laid down on the bed. I replaced the rag on his forehead before climbing into bed with him. He fell asleep.

"I love you Sherlock," I mumbled.


End file.
